Schoolboy Crush
by adcon22
Summary: Blaine has some less-than-studious thoughts about his AP Euro teacher. "It felt so wrong, lusting after his teacher like this. But really, who could blame him? Mr. Puckerman was gorgeous, and it wasn't as if he hadn't shown Blaine some slight favoritism in class that day." Warning: Masturbation, B!P, Student/Teacher.


**A/N: Hello, friends and family! Just kidding, oh god. If you're either one of those, leave. Leave and never come back.**

**For those of you that I _don't_ know personally, welcome! If you're reading this, then congratulations: you are either a.) incredibly specific when it comes to kink preferences, or b.) incredibly versatile.**

**I don't necessarily ship Plaine, but I wrote this for an RP, and I thought, _Hey, why not post it on FanFiction! _So, voila, here it is.**

**In case you didn't read the description and were just thirsty for some good, ol' fashioned Plaine, this fic contains B!P and masturbation. Oh, and it's also student/teacher.**

**Please don't judge me.**

**Disclaimer: All mistakes are mine. I don't own glee.**

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Blaine sat cross-legged on his bed, his eyes trained to the textbook in front of him. His Physics teacher had already assigned homework, and after two months of doing absolutely nothing, homework was the last thing he wanted to do. Letting out a sigh, he mindlessly scanned over the information on the page he was reading, retaining absolutely nothing of it. Even if he wanted to, Blaine probably wouldn't be able to read it properly. His mind was focused on other things. Specifically, Mr. Puckerman.

Blaine unconsciously bit his lip, letting his thoughts concentrate solely on the man. He thought about the way his button-down stretched over his muscles, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed… Blaine shook his head, trying to think about anything else. However, no matter what he did, his thoughts constantly went back to his teacher.

Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere, he closed his textbook, tossing it carelessly on the floor beside his bed. He'd just have to do it during study hall. Laying back on the pillows, he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe a short nap would do him good. His parents were out with their country club buddies, and Blaine guessed that he'd be woken by them coming home. However, as he laid there, he could not get his mind trained off of his teacher.

Blaine rolled onto his back, letting out a sigh. Giving into his thoughts, he guessed that if he just let himself think about Mr. Puckerman, he might be able to fall into a soft sleep. However, the opposite turned out to be true. As Blaine let his mind wander, from the gorgeous shape of his teacher's jaw to the way his biceps flexed when he would move his arms, he could feel his energy rising instead of falling. As more and more compromising situations began to flash through his mind, Blaine felt the first hints of arousal tugging low in his stomach.

Bottom lip tugged between his teeth, he continued to imagine things, his thoughts eventually drifting of from Mr. Puckerman's physique to situations that involved the both of them. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. He thought of how the man's strong, calloused hands would feel running along the length of his back, his mouth pressing fervent kisses to the younger boy's neck, his impressive cock pumping in and out of—

A low grown of both frustration and arousal fell from between Blaine's parted lips as he forced himself to cut his thoughts off, as now the ache between his legs had gone past the point of no return. Still biting down on his lower lip, he tried to calm his arousal simply by willpower alone, but it was no use. Despite trying his best not to, images and scenarios continued to flash in his mind, and the insistent throbbing he felt between his legs was only growing worse.

It felt so wrong, lusting after his teacher like this. But really, who could blame him? Mr. Puckerman was gorgeous, and it wasn't as if he hadn't shown Blaine some slight favoritism in class that day. This couldn't be a one sided thing, could it? The more he thought about it, the less guilty he became, and he finally decided that in this particular situation, it wasn't all that wrong to get off to thoughts of his teacher. (Although it was most likely his arousal just telling him that.)

Sucking in a shaky breath, he trailed his hand down over his clothed stomach, telling himself that this wasn't wrong. As his hands slipped past his pajama bottoms and the waistband of his underwear, he allowed his fingers to move through wiry curls, before he carefully moved downwards to circle his swollen clit.

Gasping at the contact, his hips flew up from the bed underneath him. _Jesus_, he was sensitive. Lowering back down to the mattress once again, he continued his light ministrations, purposely drawing this out. "Mr. Puckerman…" he moaned in a breathy voice, as his fingers continued to simply circle over the sensitive nub at the top of his most intimate region. As he continued to tease himself, he imagined the fingers gliding over his soaked folds as Mr. Puckerman's rather than his own, breathy pleas falling from between his lips as he continued to slowly bring him closer to his impending orgasm.

When he couldn't take his— or Mr. Puckerman's, rather— light, barely-there touches anymore, he swallowed thickly, and paused his movements to take a breath of preparation. Then, with a low moan, he slid two of his fingers into himself, surprised at how ready and open he already was. Beginning to slowly pump in and out of himself, his back arched off of the bed, his eyebrows furrowing. Another, louder moan left him as he picked up the pace and strength of his fingers, throwing in the towel and giving up on trying to make this last as long as possible.

He continued to slide his fingers in and out of himself, his knuckles visibly bobbing up and down through the fabric of his pajama pants. "Oh…oh, Mr. Puckerman," he gasped, face twisted in pleasure as he became closer and closer to his orgasm. He was whimpering and moaning with every pump of his fingers at this point, and he was barely teetering on the edge— all he needed was that last little push.

His eyes squeezed shut, Blaine pictured his teacher above him; his muscular chest glistening with sweat as he pounded mercilessly into him, their hips smacking together as they met in the middle. He kept this image in his head as he lifted his thumb to press it against his sensitive clit, and with one last pump of his fingers, he was coming, crying out in bliss as his walls clenched tightly around his fingers, his breath leaving him completely and his back arching up off of the mattress.

A moment later, he came down from his high, his back falling back down onto the bed, and his breath coming out in soft pants. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from his core, a small aftershock rippling through him as he did so. He wiped his hand off on the fabric of his pajama pants, and lazily rolled onto his side, his eyelids heavy and a lazy smile curling at his lips. Maybe _now_ he could finally sleep.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews would be greatly appreciated! :)**


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